


drug of choice

by turquoisetumult



Category: Dead Like Me
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 16:32:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1948215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turquoisetumult/pseuds/turquoisetumult
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mason’s got a new addiction in George. “The feeling of that chase, that beautiful chase to obtain that permanent high and keep it always, has awoken inside of you once more. // And like that, you’ve found a new drug."</p>
            </blockquote>





	drug of choice

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt -“she's got me high”
> 
> Feedback appreciated.

Ultimately, you were in it for the chase.

You just _liked_ it, you know?

You liked the excitability of the moment, (when the cannabis has just settled in, the world mapped out for you in the newest shapes and brightest colors, eager for exploration).

Yet, you couldn’t deny the relief it gave you either. The comfort of that moment – that moment when you finally felt at peace. Serenity, if only for a limited time, was yours to have and you were grateful for that.

But most of all, you liked the endless tease. (Every high brought you infinite joy and you thought it would never end. When it did, you saw it as just another reason to entrap it – to catch that permanent high and keep it forever.)

You watch Georgie-girl sometimes. Usually when she’s doing a daily routine (ordering a coffee for her work or extra-extra crispy potatoes for Rube at the Der Waffel Haus) or maybe when she’s talking about Delores or her old family (– she hasn’t yet learned that she doesn’t belong with the Lasses anymore, but she will one day).

She’s the only girl that you’ve ever uttered those three scary words to … at least, with a smile on your face.

She didn’t believe you when you said them, your breath stinking of alcohol and chocolate cake. You can’t blame her … not really.

You think about her. The way the jaded old world you’ve been living – existing – in for some 40 odd years seems fresh and wonderful when you’re around her. The way she looks out for you; consoling you with soft circles on your electrocuted back; tucking a warm blanket around you when the nightmare of Ray dances in your head, refusing to let you go.

You think about how she’s come to trust you over this time. How she considers you a friend, a brother, a confidant. You think about how you consider the same of her, though the feeling of that chase, that beautiful chase to obtain that permanent high and keep it always, has awoken inside of you once more.

And like that, you’ve found a new drug.


End file.
